


Still Home

by Alabaster86



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alabaster86/pseuds/Alabaster86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smellerbee and Longshot go home after Jet's death in Ba Sing Se; written for the prompt 'return'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Home

A dry summer had taken its toll on the forest. Red leaves had dropped early and a deep, crunchy carpet of them covered both the forest floor and the winding path that made its way through the trees. It was silent but for birdsong and the scurry of small animals making their way to some destination only they were privy to.

Smellerbee slipped her hand into Longshot's. The archer applied firm pressure to her fingers, solid and reassuring like he was. They stood side by side for another moment, simply drinking in the site of their old home, the place they had met, the place in which their bond was forged.

"I want to see the tree house," the boyish young woman declared.

Nodding, Longshot tugged on her hand and pulled her along. Each knew every bit of the woods; the hills, the clearings, the monstrous trees that were rooted solitary, high above the rest. When they made the final turn and then stood at the base of _their_ tree, both sucked in their breaths and shifted eyes skyward.

"Nothing's changed," Bee shouted with a grin. "Let's go up."

Longshot's smile was more subdued, but it was a smile nonetheless. In celebration, he decided to speak one of his rare words. "Let's."

Once up in the tree, the couple visited the various 'rooms', waves of nostalgia hitting them both full force. In terms of time, they had not been away from the forest and the tree house that long. But in terms of what both had experienced and endured, it seemed like eons. Their gang, the Freedom Fighters, had disbanded, perhaps forever, perhaps not. Jet, their leader, the one who had played father to them all, the one whose hurt was so great that he had temporarily lost sight of his humanity, was dead. Bee and Longshot each missed him terribly. The pain was fresh still and little things, a word or a phrase or the slope of someone's nose, could bring the memory of Jet rushing toward them like an angry mother moose lion.

Longshot threw a concerned glance Bee's way. She could read it as well as others could read characters in a book. He wanted to know if it was all too much for her, this homecoming of sorts. She shook her head 'no' and continued climbing, eventually settling down in her old 'room'. Smellerbee's eyes slipped shut but she still sensed Longshot join her and soon felt warm arms wrapping around her small body, protecting, supporting, loving.

"It's all right," she muttered. "I'm all right."

He kissed her hair and closed his own eyes. That was answer enough.


End file.
